Reality Will Always Be Waiting for You
by LitchfieldandLightningScars
Summary: Reality has always been Lorna Morello's worst enemy. But she can never fully push it away. First chapter is about Lorna's childhood and pre-Litchfield life. Focuses very much on her mental state and her struggle with it. Lorna/Nicky in possible future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

******Disclaimer: I own nothing apart from the writing and plot. Everything is credit to Orange is the New Black**

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**Reality Will Always Be Waiting For You**

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Lorna Morello had always been a carefree, happy child up until her eleventh birthday. Others thought of her as kind, adorable, naïve. Before then, teachers who were fond of her told her she was 'creative' and 'imaginative'. When she would arrive home, her mother would always ask how her day had been. The young girl, with a bright glow in her eyes, would answer with a fantastical tale. It usually contained some scatterings of the truth but they would be drowned out by far-fetched embellishments the innocent child had imagined in her little head. Her mother would laugh fondly, tuck a strand of her dark hair behind her ear and say 'Oh Lorna, if only everyone else had these amazing stories to tell!'

Lorna would smile vaguely at this, unsure of what she meant. She had never considered herself as different. It was only much, much later in life she realised even the most imaginative of children didn't truly believe their own stories, not like she did. For Lorna, they weren't just exciting stories to tell – they were the way she saw things happening. They were the way she lived her life. The older she became, the more she became aware of the clear divide between herself and others. She began to see that her tales were wearing thin and people didn't listen like they used to. Her mother became less interested. She didn't call her special anymore like she used to. Her father never took an interest anyway. Then, on her eleventh birthday, true reality that she always so naively pushed to the side, revealed itself to her.

The first thing she received for her birthday was a new nickname. She bounded into school, a beaming smile on her rosy red face, and told her classmates that she was having a huge party and everyone was invited and it was going to be just like a princess movie. Her classmates laughed. They called her childish, pathetic, stupid.

They called her a liar.

They christened her 'Loony Lorna'. Heading home that day, all she could hear was the snide chanting of her new nickname, playing in her mind over and over. It wouldn't leave her head. She could hear nothing else. The girl dragged her feet as she walked. She looked down at the ground, her usual cheery smile disappeared. When she reached home, she went straight to her mother, just as she always did.

'How was your day, birthday girl?' her mother asked, sounding slightly weary whilst bustling about the kitchen, making food for Lorna and her older brother and sister.

'It was horrible. Everybody laughed at me.' Her mother turned to look at her, frowning slightly at the sight of the dejected girl. Lorna never came home from school with any problems.

'Why?' Lorna told her what had happened, her voice thick with holding back sobs. She had expected sympathy from the parent who had always treated her like she was special, even if she hadn't told her so lately.

'Well, it's about time you stopped with your silly stories. No wonder they said that, I'm surprised they haven't said it to you before.' Her mother couldn't have hurt her more if she had hit her. Her insides became cold. She stared wide-eyed at the woman she had always trusted. The tears that had threatened to fall just a moment ago stopped. She was too shocked to let them begin to pour.

'But you always said my stories are good. You said everyone should be like me. You said I was special.' Her mother shook her head.

'You need to grow up now Lorna. You're too old for fantasies.' The stunned girl broke, crying her little heart out. She ran to her room and wouldn't come down for dinner. Her sister, Franny, four years older than her, came into her room. She sat next to her on the bed and grabbed her shoulders, forcing the younger girl to face her.

'Ma told me what happened today Lorna. She's right, you know.' Lorna didn't react. She thought families were supposed to stand up for each other and protect each other unconditionally. 'Oh come on, you need to start growing up and living in the real world. It's pathetic. You're eleven, not five.' Franny got up to leave, mumbling something about going out with her friends.

That was when Lorna experienced her first uncontrollable burst of anger. She couldn't stop the feeling, the white hot pain in her head, the freezing cold of her insides, the horrific shaking, and the heavy breathing.

The worst part was the pure hatred she felt towards her sister as she watched her walk away.

She jumped up from her bed and grabbed her sister by her hair, pulling her backwards onto the floor and screaming at her. Franny shrieked for their mother. Their mother and brother threw her bedroom door open to see Lorna slamming her sister's head against the floor. Her brother pulled them apart, Franny crying and holding her sore head. Lorna had a chunk of her hair in her tightly clenched fist. She received a harsh slap from her mother. They left her in her room for the rest of the night. She trashed it, throwing everything she saw, kicking every piece of furniture. She was shivering as though it was freezing cold. Her family had never seen a child so angry, never mind the always smiling Lorna Morello. She had always been the good kid, the one who never caused any problems.

After that violent outburst, none of her family thought she was charming any more. Not after seeing her ugly side.

Everything changed then. Lorna never told her mother about her day anymore, not that she ever asked. Her father never really spoke to her. Her brother was never at home. Her sister was always with her various boyfriends. No one at school wanted to be friends with 'Loony Lorna'. She was alone. Nobody cared about her.

This was reality, and she hated it.

So she created a secret world inside her head, inspired by movies and celebrities. She made a detailed scrapbook but it wasn't enough. She began to stick pictures on her walls, a collage of everything she wanted in life, from her dream holidays, to her dream wardrobe and, the most important of all, her dream husband and wedding. Her room became the physical representation of her mind. It envisioned all of her fantasies. Both her bedroom and her mind became her sweet escapes. Never did she feel as safe and distanced as when she could retreat into either of them.

From the age of twelve she began to fully plan her future wedding. The children she would have, their names, how she would marry a perfect man who would treat her like a princess. Her marriage would be nothing like her parents'. Her children would be nothing like her siblings.

Lorna vowed to herself that she would never be like any of them.

Planning was her way out. If she meticulously planned every detail it would come true. She knew it. Nobody told her otherwise, nobody called her childish or pathetic anymore because nobody was interested.

* * *

That's why it hurt so much when Nicky said it. She cared immensely about what Nicky thought of her. So when she gave Lorna a quick, sharp slap of reality, it hurt like nothing she had experienced in a long time.

'_Christopher doesn't fucking exist, at least not in your life_.' A suffocating jolt of pain went through her heart at that point. Her insides became cold. She felt her anger taking over, but she didn't want to hurt Nicky. She could never lash out at her. She had to get away. She didn't want the women of Litchfield knowing she was violent. She didn't want anyone seeing her ugly side. But she cared deeply for Nicky and now she had hit a problem.

If Nicky kept bringing her back into reality, she was a dangerous person for Lorna to be around. When people reminded her of the one thing she wanted to repress, she usually blocked them out. However, she just couldn't bring herself to block Nicky out. So she had to develop an even stronger mind set.

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When Lorna was fifteen, her mother became ill. It wasn't life threatening, but that's all she knew. She didn't ask many questions. In the same year, Franny had her first baby; a little boy. Lorna's house was chaos. She would go to her room, lie on her bed, stare at her scrapbooked wall and imagine the future. The rest of her teenage years passed in a blur. They all seemed to melt into one - nothing in Lorna's life had clear cut times. Things just happened. She had no idea of the time period in which they occurred. Her fantasy was her life. Reality was an unimportant backstory she didn't care for. When it cropped up, she would ignore it.

Franny had another baby; another boy. Her brother had a different girlfriend every week. Her mum was bed ridden. Her dad still didn't have a job. These events played along in the unnoticed backstory of reality – Lorna had other things to think about.

Lorna was now seen as the girl who thought she was too good for the Morello family and her neighbourhood. A pretty girl, a sweet girl, but she always had her head in the clouds. She wasn't called silly names anymore – they had passed the age of stupid name calling like that. She didn't care anyway – she'd learnt how to cope. Some people used humour as a defence mechanism, some shut people out. Lorna created positive fantasies. She used to shut people out too, but stopped this when she was around eighteen. It wasn't a conscious decision, but at this point her fantasy life and real life began to collide and slowly morph together. That's when Lorna believed she became happier; she knew she was on track. She could now cope in the real world as well as her fantasy because she had mastered combining them rather than separating them. Her relationship with her family was better. She and Franny began to get along well, like friends as well as sisters. She sometimes had moments of confusion and forgetfulness but she didn't think it was abnormal.

Admittedly, she didn't have a social life like her brother and sister did. Lorna didn't try for one, or even want much of one really. It complicated her delicate balance that had taken her so long to perfect. She never dated anyone. She kissed a couple of guys, but that was the extent of her love life. She was waiting for the right guy, and she didn't see the point in getting with someone she felt nothing for. Franny laughed at her for it once, saying that she was going to remain innocent forever if she waited for the perfect man. Lorna would never admit it, but she always felt awkward if anybody ever tried making a move on her. It didn't bother her for long though – she knew that when she met the 'the one', she wouldn't feel awkward at all.

When she reached her twenties, Lorna knew she had to make her dream life happen. She soon realised her Prince Charming, the Tony to her Maria, wouldn't just materialise out of thin air. She had to _find_ him. All her favourite movies were filled with love stories – beautiful, perfect, happy women who found the flawless man of their dreams. Lorna left her house a lot more, on the off chance she might bump into her future husband somehow.

Another aspect of her perfect life was making an effort to look beautiful. She began to order nice clothes online. Designer clothes showed people she was classy. She couldn't afford them forever though. That's when she started lying that they hadn't arrived to get her money back. It became an addiction. She felt a thrill when she picked up the packages. She never felt more alive than when she would ring the website, holding in her free hand the item she was claiming hadn't been delivered. She would stroke the fabrics, relish in feeling the product in her hand.

And so, Lorna Morello was pretty happy again but still searching for her dream. She became oblivious to others and their lives and focused on herself. She knew something good was on its way. The scrapbooked walls had been revamped, new images, new words of inspiration for her to believe in. She knew she ignored responsibilities like taking care of her mother when it was her turn, and pangs of guilt would plague her sometimes, but she quickly forced the bad feelings away.

* * *

Everything changed when she met him.

Christopher. Her new favourite name. Her new favourite person. When she bumped into him and met his eyes for the first time, her heart nearly stopped. _He's the one, _she thought to herself. _I've found him_. When he asked her for coffee, every romantic movie, every scenario, everything she had ever planned raced through her head. He was the only missing part of the puzzle. She had completed the rest; she just needed him for the picture to be complete.

The date was perfect. They were meant to be. Never, even in her wildest fantasies, could she have dreamt up Christopher. The way they collided, the way they looked at each other for the first time. How he looked so much like the male model she had cut out from a fashion magazine for her wall. It was fate.

He was perfect. He was hers. And she knew that she was his, for all eternity.

She told her sister everything that very night. How he swept her off her feet, how he wouldn't stop calling her, even though they had only just been out for coffee. They were both madly in love. Sure, they had some problems but what relationship didn't? When he blocked her number the next day, she felt the first chip at her fantasy. The first hint of doubt plagued her mind. But she had an explanation. He was confused! They had rushed into it so quickly. Shaking her head at her doubts, she typed him a quick message on Facebook. She told him they could take it more slowly if that's what he needed. He replied saying he wasn't interested in her. Her cheery smile she had worn for the past 24 hours since he entered her life faltered. What did he mean? Again, an explanation formed – he didn't want people to know just yet. Maybe he was the type of guy who wanted their love to be private at first, a secret. _That is so romantic!_ She messaged him again, explaining she knew how he felt – love was a confusing emotion, especially when it was so intense!

He didn't speak to her for the next few days.

Franny asked about him. Lorna didn't know why, but she couldn't stop herself. She told her they were going out to all different places. The cinema one day, a meal the next. She told her she was spending the night at his later that week. However much she told Franny, and told herself, Lorna couldn't shake the feeling something wasn't right. But if she tried to focus in on the feeling, it made her thoughts become blurry and painful. So she stayed away from it. Why feel pain, when she could experience this brand new wave of love and happiness she had never felt before?

When she turned up at his house with her suitcase packed ready for their weekend away, he had yelled at her. He told her to go away and leave him the fuck alone. Christopher called her crazy. She had backed away, embarrassed. She had to explain to Franny how Christopher had mixed up the weekends – it was the weekend _after _that they were going away.

That night, Lorna woke up in a frightening state of panic. She felt uneasy, she felt sick. Reality punched her in the gut. Christopher didn't like her. She began to shake, her breathing erratic. She felt exactly like she did before her first angry outburst.

She couldn't stop herself.

The angry letters wrote themselves. Sure, the threatening voicemails were spoken in Lorna's voice but _it wasn't her_. Not really. The same white hot pain had taken over her head. She woke up on the floor of her room, completely oblivious to what had happened. She usually forgot these episodes.

That's why it came as a slight shock when Christopher began saying crazy things in court. She didn't recollect some of the things he was saying. Or she remembered them completely differently. Lorna couldn't help staring at him the whole way through the trial. Her heart felt so light with love and yet so heavy with a fear she couldn't quite place.

'And then I began receiving threats.' She felt her smile drop a little. Threats? She vaguely remembered writing letters. But they weren't against him! He knew that! Christopher is really being stupid, she thought. She couldn't believe he was saying all of this.

'I moved twice. Each time she found me.' A wave of pride took over her body. _Of course I found you Christopher! _He always played these games with her. Every time she turned up at a new house of his, she would explain to him that it was fate. She knew it was hard for him to go public with their relationship and she really did appreciate how he felt their love was a private matter, but it was a struggle for her. Her body turned suddenly cold. He had just mentioned that disgusting whore, _Angela._

'She showed up in Atlantic City where we'd gone for the weekend.' He was making everything sound so bad! This was that stupid slut Angela's fault. She had been manipulating Christopher ever since she got her claws into him. _It was supposed to be our weekend trip_, she thought. _Not Angela's_. She stole that like she was trying to steal everything from Lorna.

'And then she threatened to strangle Angela, and that's when I got a restraining order.' She was shaking. People were going to get the wrong impression here. She felt her horrible enemy reality slipping into her mind. _You were wrong, Lorna. He loves Angela not you. _She pushed these thoughts away, with more difficulty than usual.

'Did she ever make an attempt on your life?' What? Lorna was horrified at the thought. She_ loved _Christopher - she wouldn't try to kill him!

'Yes. We found a homemade explosive device under Angela's car.' They were twisting everything! It was under _her_ car so obviously it was for Angela, not Christopher! Lorna tried to recollect even making an explosive but reality had drowned under her varying emotions. She had pushed it too far under. She told her lawyer that it was all wrong before remembering he said she couldn't speak until her defence. She shook her head and smiled reassuringly at Christopher. He didn't have to be manipulated by that psychotic bitch Angela. Maybe, if she kept smiling at him, reminding him of what he had, he would snap out of this horrible state Angela had put him in. _Just as long as I don't lose Christopher,_ Lorna thought. He was all she needed.

When they sentenced her to 34 months, the Judge had referred to her as 'dangerous' and 'delusional'. He said that this amount of time in prison would force her to 'focus on reality' and 'realise the devastating extent of her crimes and the traumatic experiences she had put her victims through'.

But prison didn't allow her to grab a hold of reality.

Prison granted Lorna Morello the one thing it took away from everyone else. It allowed her to create a new bubble, in a world of people who knew nothing about her.

Prison gave her _freedom._

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**Author's Note: So, I planned this as a one shot but I have actually started writing for when she arrives at Litchfield and how her state of mind develops because of prison, so it depends on what people think.**

**Please leave a review and any comments to improve etc. Anything is good to hear :)**

**I find writing from Lorna's point of view really intriguing and have wanted to explore her mental state as I think it's a very important aspect of her character that we don't hear much mentioned of considering she clearly has a very unstable mentality. I also have more in common with Lorna so it's interesting to write solely for her rather than Nicky too. **

**Anywayyy, please let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**********Disclaimer: I own nothing apart from the writing and plot. Everything is credit to Orange is the New Black**

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**Reality Will Always Be Waiting For You**

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When Lorna arrived at Litchfield, just her and a young Hispanic girl named Gonzales, she couldn't think of anything but Christopher. She knew he would visit her and it would all be okay.

He would apologise.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to see her outside of prison visits for 34 months would drive him crazy. He would realise Angela was the reason she was in here.

It was all going to be okay.

Lorna knew that if she kept telling herself that, it would come true.

On her way in, regardless of how calm she looked, and strangely enough _felt_, she knew one thing for certain.

She couldn't tell _anyone _the real reason she was in prison.

Ever.

She knew she had gone a little too far in warning off Angela, she could admit that to herself now. However, she also knew she didn't really deserve to be here.

Lorna may have been called 'delusional' by the Judge in court, but she sure wasn't stupid.

Stalking, which is what they had charged her for, was a serious crime. She had no idea how other prisoners would react if they thought she was violent and crazy. There was no need for that sort of unnecessary bother.

Nobody in here knew her – she could be whoever she wanted to be. She could be the head-over-heels in love fiancee that she knew she was.

Nobody would question it. They would have no reason to.

So when she was taken to a room where her temporary bunk was, and a woman named DeMarco asked her what she was in for, she replied with a simple answer.

'Mail fraud.'

DeMarco had rolled her eyes, shot a sarcastic look at the woman with cancer whose name Lorna didn't know yet, and started to make Lorna's bed for her.

Lorna looked around the room and noticed the woman with cancer staring at her curiously. She looked down a little; she felt like this woman could see right through people. DeMarco noticed how uncomfortable Lorna looked.

'That's Miss Rosa. Don't worry about her. Chemo makes her cranky.'

'It doesn't make me deaf, DeMarco.' Miss Rosa shook her head. She assessed Lorna again. 'How long you got?'

'34 months.' Miss Rosa looked at her sceptically.

'Must've been a serious amount of mail fraud.'

* * *

Her old enemy reality visited that night. She couldn't sleep and her mind was taken over by the repressed state. A tear ran down her face as her cloudy thoughts suddenly became too clear. The edges of each memory and realisation were sharp, cutting through even her strongest fantasies.

The venomous voice was back, its words like daggers.

_Christopher doesn't love you. Why would he love **you?** _Her face screwed up, another tear fell.

_You're a psychotic stalker. _Her small hands gripped her knees to her aching chest.

_You're childish and pathetic. _She balled her trembling hands into tight fists.

_You're not normal. _Her fists slammed into her forehead, pressing against her temples as though the pressure would force the horrible voice out. Her sobs were audible now - heartbroken crying that she tried desperately to quieten.

'Shut up, shut up, _shut up_!' she whispered harshly to herself, streams of tears dripping onto her dry lips. She shook violently, tensing her whole body as she pushed it into the corner of the bed, as though trying to compress herself into nothing.

It had been so much easier lately to get rid of this poisonous voice when it came along to taunt her.

So why couldn't she make it leave now?

_Because you're crazy. _

'I'm not, I'm not, _I'm not_! Go away, shut up!' her whispering voice cracked, more tears began to drip from her worried eyes, her chest heaved with her uneven breathing.

She couldn't quieten down.

She tensed up immediately when she heard movement across the room. Her eyes were wide open in fear.

Rosa had been for her treatment the day before and she always struggled sleeping the night after. The new girl's sobs didn't help.

But Rosa felt a twinge of sympathy towards the young girl and she wasn't sure why. Usually, she was a rather impatient woman. She had been in prison long enough to lose sympathy for the new inmates.

'Kid. You're gonna wake everyone up.' Rosa said it quietly so the girl could only just hear her. Lorna held her breath when she heard the gruff voice of Miss Rosa. There was an awkward pause of silence. 'Are you holding your breath?' Lorna let go of the breath she had been keeping in.

Rosa couldn't help letting out a short laugh. 'First night's always the hardest. Be selfish in here kid. Think of yourself. It will help you survive.'

Another awkward silence. Again, Rosa broke it.

'You should sleep kid. You got a long day tomorrow.'

She heard Rosa shuffle around a little.

'Thank you.' Lorna whispered in a tiny voice. Think only of herself. Focus on herself. She could do that, if she had to. She could survive. No, she _would _survive.

* * *

After that first night, things weren't so bad. She woke with a big smile painted on her face, nervously, but seemingly happily, chattering away. The women in her room shook their heads at her.

DeMarco called her 'The happiest girl in prison.'

Gonzales called her 'Fucking crazy.' But Lorna didn't care.

One thing everyone silently agreed on was that this bizarre optimism would soon be knocked out of her by the harsh reality of prison life.

How wrong they were.

Although, however happy she seemed that morning, she was dreading breakfast. Who would she sit with? She took her tray and scanned the canteen. Nobody from her temporary dorm room was there.

'Come sit with us.' She looked around to see who had spoken. It was a small, thin woman with blonde hair. She was quite a bit older than Lorna. She smiled gratefully and perched on the end of the bench, sat opposite a woman with a mass of wild hair and eyes that were intensely fixated on Lorna's. She looked a similar age to herself.

It wasn't only the girl with wild hair who was staring at Lorna.

She could feel everyone's eyes on her.

Not wanting to meet anyone's gaze, she quickly spooned a large amount of the greyish oatmeal into her mouth. It was pretty disgusting, but she could live with it.

She looked ahead and saw the girl opposite her_ still_ staring at her, but now she was wearing an amused smirk. She had playful glint in her dark, heavily mascaraed eyes.

'Sure your mouth can fit any more in there, kid?' Lorna's cheeks burned and she could feel them flushing bright red.

'Leave her alone Nichols, Red'll be pleased she enjoys the food.' It was a young girl with dark brown hair who was speaking. 'What's your name? I'm Mercy. This is Big Boo, that's Yoga Jones.' She pointed to the woman who invited her to sit with them. Yoga Jones gave her a warm smile. 'And this,' she playfully punched the wild haired girls arm, 'is Nichols of course. Aw, shit, Sister just left. You'll see her soon though.'

'Fucking hell Mercy, it's _prison_ not fucking high school.' Nichols said, shaking her head.

'I'm Lorna…Shit! Morello, I'm Morello.' Lorna quickly said after she had swallowed her mouthful of thick oatmeal.

'Italian huh? I always did hear Italians were pretty fucking hot.' Nichols smirked arrogantly at the girl, one of her eyebrows raised teasingly. Lorna, again, flushed bright red and spooned some more oatmeal into her mouth.

'Ignore Nichols, she's a bad influence.' Mercy said, nudging Nichols' arm with her shoulder.

'Hey! You're giving me a fucking horrible rep here, Merce. Don't fucking listen to her Morello, I'm the most well-behaved here.' She winked and Lorna could tell she was holding in a larger smile.

'So, enough of the bullshit, what're you in for?' Big Boo said. Just as Lorna opened her mouth to answer, Big Boo suddenly threw her hands up and shouted.

'Wait! Let us guess. It's more fun, we can make a game out of it. I'll go first. Drugs?'

'Is she fuck in for drugs Boo, what a shitty guess.' Nichols frowned. 'I can tell the type of people who are in here for that sorta shit and she definitely isn't. Am I right kid?' Lorna nodded. Yoga Jones put her fork down and spoke.

'Now you all stop right now. Guessing what someone is in here for is _not_ a healthy game.'

'It was mail fraud, ya know?' This made a few of them snigger. She would rather people think she was dumb and foolish than crazy and scary. She stuffed a waffle in her mouth and focused on chewing the dry food. Seeing a slight shadow pass over her tray, she looked up to see a stern older woman with flaming red hair standing there. The woman threw to each of the others at the table a pot of strawberry yoghurt. She looked at Lorna, who was still battling through her mouthful of food. She realised she must have looked like a complete idiot.

'Who's this?' her voice was heavily accented. Lorna was pretty sure it was a Russian accent.

'Morello.' Nicky answered. She turned to Lorna. 'And this is Red. Head of kitchen.' Red studied the girl and nodded.

'Here. Since you seem to like my food so much.' She placed a pot of the yoghurt next to her tray. Even with the kind gesture, Lorna found the woman intimidating and she felt anxious. In this high state of nerves, she bobbed her head much too enthusiastically in agreement. She saw a hint of amusement flicker in Red's stony eyes before she walked back to the kitchen.

'You got anyone on the outside Morello?' Mercy asked. Lorna nodded excitedly as she felt her heart lighten at the thought of Christopher.

'My fiancé, Christopher. We're getting married as soon as I get out.'

The freedom she had now was immense. She chatted endlessly to them about her wedding plans, just as she had rehearsed to herself in her head. It became more extravagant, more beautiful.

She no longer had boundaries. Nobody would question her. Why would they?

Lorna was good with details, she always had been. And her wedding story was so intricately detailed, from the description of the venue, to the design on the invites.

The inmates of Litchfield thought they knew everything about the annoyingly cheery newbie, Lorna Morello.

They were blissfully unaware that, actually, they knew nothing.

* * *

Her first few days went well. She was glad to finally be dressed like everyone else and be out of the garish orange. Some inmates tried to scare the new inmates and it made her feel isolated, but now she could blend in.

CO O'Neill showed her to her newly assigned bunk. She found out she would share with Big Boo, which wasn't too bad in Lorna's eyes.

Big Boo had been trying to jokingly scare her, and kept making mean remarks about her wedding and her being heterosexual, but it could be much worse.

She placed her small amount of possessions onto her new bunk and hung her jacket on one of the hooks. She heard Nichols' voice from behind her.

'The good news is you now have a cube and you have escaped sharing with DeMarco's irritatingly loud and shitty heart machine! The bad news, and this is fucking terrible Morello, you've now gotta share with the irritatingly loud and shitty Big Boo! That's a rough trade kid.' She was leaning against the wall at the entrance, a bag of pretzels in hand, smirking at her. Boo shook her head.

'Jealous, Nichols?' Boo had a wicked but knowing look in her eyes as she regarded Nicky. Lorna felt like she was missing something and assumed it was some sort of inside joke. She grinned mischievously at Nicky.

'Jealous? Aww Nichols, I never knew you liked me so much.' Lorna suddenly regretted her joke, hoping she hadn't overstepped the line and acted too overfamiliar. After all, she had only been there a week and had only sat with Nichols at mealtimes. And people easily got annoyed in here.

But Lorna just felt so comfortable around her, like she had known her for much longer than a week.

She saw Nicky's confident smile twist in an attempt not to laugh.

'Don't flatter yourself, kid. Just thought I'd welcome you in and warn you about the hazards of sharing a cube with an inmate like Boo.' Back at ease again, Lorna replied.

'And what hazards are those, huh?'

'Well, after your smart remark, I decided I'm gonna let you find that shit out for yourself Morello.' She tossed a pretzel in the air and caught it in her mouth before walking back to her own bunk. Lorna began to unpack her things and she heard Boo sigh loudly.

'Ahhh fuck. You're not gonna plaster your walls in wedding shit are you?'

* * *

Lorna quickly realised that with not much to occupy her, her thoughts began to roam a little, developing a mind of their own.

Snippets of reality began to grow where they never had before.

She knew she had to keep busy. She hadn't yet been assigned a job and wasn't sure when she would be. She began to throw herself into wedding planning, just like she had done before she got in here. Lorna could tell a few of the other inmates were sick of her talking about it, but she didn't care.

This was her future and she wasn't about to give up planning it just because others found it boring.

Lorna was sat alone at a table in the TV room, writing down the guest list for the wedding. Her mouth was pouted as she concentrated on how many guests they would be able to have and who could be cut out if necessary.

She was so engrossed in the list she didn't notice Nicky had sat next to her.

'Hey Morello.' Lorna looked up and smiled as Nicky carelessly threw some magazines down in front of her.

'Nichols! Aren't you supposed to be working?' She shook her head and propped her boots up on the table.

'I'm so fucking bored, y'know?' Lorna nodded and sighed, putting the pen down and looking enviously at the magazines. 'You can look through them if you want.' She beamed at Nicky and grabbed the nearest one, relishing in the feel of the glossy pages. As she looked through, she made subconscious mental notes of the things she would've cut out and stuck on her scrapbook wall at home. She sighed again, and Nicky looked over.

'What's up?' Lorna stroked the strikingly red lips of a model on a make-up advert.

'It sounds stupid, but I miss wearing this stuff. It sounds like such a pathetic thing to miss, but I do.'

'Look who you're fucking talking to kid. I'm surprised my eyelashes haven't fallen off with the amount of mascara I heap on them.' Lorna caught Nicky looking at her lips. She looked away from them and stared straight back at her eyes instead. Lorna frowned.

'Ya know, you don't seem like someone who would talk about make-up and girly things Nichols.' Nicky sat up straighter and laughed at the girl.

'What, because I'm a junkie lesbian who doesn't give a fuck about looking nice? Wanna hit me with any more shitty stereotypes Morello?' Lorna's eyes widened in worry and she put her hand on Nicky's.

'No! No I didn't mean it like that Nicky!' She was getting more flustered the more she spoke. Nicky laughed again.

'Relax, I'm kidding with you. But that red lipstick would look fucking hot on you.' Lorna looked down self-consciously.

'Yeah right.' She mumbled.

'I'm serious! You'd have to fight off all the women in here if you wore that shit.' Nicky stood. 'Later, kid.' Lorna smiled after her.

She had never met anybody like Nicky, but there was something about her that she liked.

* * *

A few days later, as she put on her khakis, she felt something in the breast pocket. Picking it out, Lorna felt a rush of happiness as she held a tube of scarlet lipstick in her hand. Leaning forward to the mirror she had taped to her wall, she applied the bright colour. She pressed her lips together and smiled at the deep shade of red.

When she reached the canteen for breakfast, she saw Nicky already sat down with her tray of food. Lorna walked past with her head held high and her newly painted lips in a noticeable pout. From the corner of her eye, she saw Nicky look up at her with a satisfied smirk upon her face.

Lorna tried to keep from breaking out into an embarrassingly large grin as she felt Nicky's eyes follow her all the way to the food line.

If Lorna had to pick out just one thing that made her first couple of weeks in prison as easy as they ever could have been, it would have been Nicky Nichols.

The problem was, not even Nicky, the best thing in her prison life, could keep her true enemy away.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. The next one will be tons better, I promise! Please leave a review, they really do help :)**

**This chapter was less dark but I needed Nicky/Lorna cuteness in my life. And I also needed my second favourite otp of Lorna/food haha.**

**The next chapter will probably be darker again (I'm a horrible person, I'm sorry)**

**Anyway, please leave any comments you might have :)**


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